


Du Riechst So Gut - Rammwolf AU

by Zubenschemali



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen, Were-Creatures, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:21:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24933688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zubenschemali/pseuds/Zubenschemali
Summary: After Oliver was attacked one night by an unknown creature and was able to save his own life, his life only got worse.Precisely because of this incident, he was forced by an unknown group of friends to join them because they all have something in common: Lycanthropy.Even if the circumstances are already unfavorable, a group of hunters is on their way to Berlin to catch the beast, which is to blame for the murders.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	1. Hunde

Berlin, 1924  
It was a cool day full of rain and pessimism. The thick clouds hung deep over the flourishing city which was poisoned by the bliss of the golden twenties. People forgot what had happened a few years ago: death at the borders, trenches full of bodies of young people and of course veterans who had received nothing from the state except a few medals.

One of them was Oliver.  
He was only 19 years old, almost a child when the emperor called more and more boys to the front. He was still plagued by nightmares, the expressionless face of the man who was perforated by the fragments of a grenade and the biting smell of blood in sand.  
It was a bad time for every man. No one could imagine going back there again. To hell on earth. Oliver knew the smell of poison gas in his nose, his lungs still groaned about it. Like rats, they were driven out of the trenches, the blood flowing out of his eyes, out of his mouth and out of his nose. Next to him fell his comrades, fallen through clean shots in the back. A pain in his shoulder also caused him to fall, but he awoke a little later in the barracks in Berlin again.  
This was 7 years ago and yet he couldn't get over it. The rain protects him from the eyes of the people.  
In everyday clothes, the young man limped through the dirty streets of Berlin. Germany flourished despite heavy losses. His eye saw more trams, new shops on every corner and also a new invention: a traffic light.

Berlin had changed and with it the people but he could not really put up with it. The bullet had broken his shoulder blade, so the movement in his right arm was limited, his lungs were corroded by the gases of the war and a long scar adorned his calf, which is why he only walked limping forward. He had lost everything at the time.  
His friends, Jürgen Fleck, Alexander Lange, Tim Gräfe. Three comrades who died in the war - although they just came together from high school to learn a job. His mother died and he had no contact with his father. There was no reason to return to Schwerin, he would have to stay here in the metropolis of the future and look for work.

It was just before the night broke over the city. Only at night did Berlin really begin to live and became a circus of colorful lights, adorned with pretty people who went to extravagant clubs to end the evening but at the same time just as dangerous for all outsiders.  
With his eyes lowered and his hands in his coat pockets, Oliver walked slowly and with a dragging foot to the stop of the next railway which would soon bring him back to a small apartment on the outskirts of the city.  
As expected there were no complications with the train but it took him 40 minutes to reach the stop where he had to get off. Sighing, he stepped on the wet concrete and stroked over the short hair on his head as the raindrops fell on his head.  
Shortly he looked back to the train which continued and realized that he, besides a few other poor people, was probably the only one who left the train here. The stairs led him down from the station and also under the rails before he ran through the dark streets through the gray residential area. The individual street lamps only minimally illuminated the main streets in this barren area, but Oliver knew the way day and night.

In addition to traumatic things and a free treatment with a therapist, the young man had learned something else from the war: a premonition of danger.  
A feeling of discomfort spread to his stomach and he increased his pace a little. Although he was no longer in danger and everyone here knew that it was pointless to steal from someone in this area, this feeling did not go away.  
His Green Eyes overlooked the area in front of him but did not look back in order not to alarm the invisible enemy. It was only a few meters to his small two-room apartment but this coldness in the neck came closer and closer.  
Slowly Oliver grabbed under his coat on his leg and silently took the old hunting knife in his hand, which had already protected him from thieves several times. His long fingers held the wooden handle sweaty in his hand as he turned into the dark side alley. There she was, his front door.

He just put the key in the keyhole and wanted to turn it around when he heard a crack from the darkness and quiet steps on the wet concrete floor.  
With his eyes open, he looked over his shoulder and panicked in all directions when he heard nothing behind him. Of course, the old wooden door jammed once again when he shook it, but he immediately stopped trying to open the door when he saw a gruesome shadow in the corner of his eye.

Next to his shadows, which were thrown to the ground by the gas lantern on the main road, another figure appeared: animal, with curved backs and a shaggy appearance.  
For a moment, Oliver thought he was just imagining this again, but this hope was suppressed as the shadow moved and seemed to come closer and closer. There was a conflict in him as to whether he should really turn to this being.  
His fingers, which grabbed the knife in his hand, locked the wooden handle closer and closer. Probably his ankles were already red from the pressure the young man exerted on the small object. Slowly he turned his head to the right over his shoulder and dared to look at the creature.

It stood on three legs and slightly lifted the second front leg into the air.  
First, Oliver recognized the beast's giant head. Sharp rice teeth protructed from his mouth, and the sabers ran out of his mouth. The ears had it slightly laid out, but it regularly turned them in different directions. Good to see were these ice blue eyes staring at Oliver.  
Cold, expressionless, you'd say godless. The further Oliver looked at the creature, the more it became clear to him what it was. His first tip was an older hungry wolf which was plagued by disease due to the grey skin which was particularly visible on the chest and belly of the beast due to lack of fur.  
The hind legs were long and had huge paws which were both provided with long claws and a short tail hung limp down.  
The frightening thing was the front legs. Beside the massive shoulders this being had weak forearms and no paws on what it was standing on. Much more, they were hands, however, which were converted to toe-goers and were equipped with long claws.

Suddenly, Oliver pulled out the knife when the creature threw himself on the ground with a howl and crossed the front limbs over his head. Only now much to him shocking on that hung from the beast scattered garments.  
Oliver stopped his breath and he blinked fast several times in a row but this appearance in front of him did not want to disappear. Several minutes passed when the creature was winding in front of him and Oliver was already thinking about releasing suffering from his unknowns, but when he came closer, the beast raised his head again and blew his white teeth.

This time the wolf started to growl and Oliver swallowed loudly.  
He heard the blood rushing in his ears and was pretty sure that the being in front of him heard this as well.  
Slowly it began to move towards him and entered the concrete slab in front of Oliver's front door. Only a few centimetres separated the two sides. There seemed to be a sudden change of heart in the being because it began to whine softly and lowered its big head before it looked up again with less hatred in its eyes. The growling also disappeared and this looked much more like a friendly dog.

Oliver hesitated but even now he could not decide whether this was just a further appearance in his head or pure reality. The doctors warned him of side effects in medication, but he had become addicted to it. He swallowed a target and took the second hand from the knife grip. Trembling he stretched it out towards the huge head in front of him. His bony fingers almost touched the beast's fur and he saw the wolf's nose moving as a sign that it smelled on him.

Quickly, however, the situation changed. The pain did not reach Oliver's brain until his two middle fingers and a piece of his little finger were simply bitten off and swallowed down by this being. From the young man's throat sounded a cry when he saw the blood flowing from his hand, but he could not cry long for the being before him was leaning on him. The huge mouth snapped at him and first grabbed his jacket.

With the help of the powerful neck, it tore the simple clothes and snapped further after.  
Oliver's injured hand tried to keep his teeth away from his collarbone without much success while he reached for the knife with the other hand, which could not be reached immediately on the wet concrete floor.  
Again, he cried out as his teeth broke through his collarbone and he heard the crack when the beast's powerful jaw broke his bones. At the same time, he felt the long claws drilling into his right upper arm and his lower abdomen.

The pain was unbearable, but he continued to try to reach the knife.  
The war was bad but he couldn't remember having experienced such a bad thing. This was by no means a hallucination that just tore the flesh out of him.  
But surprisingly, he didn't want to die like that and ended up in the Berliner Morgenzeitung as an astonishing murder case.  
Oliver let go of a powerful scream and put on his legs even though this movement only made things worse. With last force he kicked as hard as he could against the lower abdomen of the huge being, which astonishingly let go and descended from the great man with a howl. With his right arm he reached for the knife because in a few moments the creature wanted to jump on him again.  
But this time Oliver hit the knife into the wolf's neck with full force, which is why the wolf stepped back and looked at this knife in his side.

What happened that evening was not to be explained to Oliver anymore. His last life force left him and his head fell on the hard concrete floor which was stained with his blood.  
But this was only the beginning of the horror.


	2. Kripo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoph, Paul and Flake are investigating the last night incident.

"In a place like this? How did you come here?"   
A smaller man grumbled to himself in annoyance as he looked at his small pocket watch and quickly let it slide back into the pocket of his golden vest.  
"I don't have many memories. As I said I woke up nearby after a loving inhabitant had thrown a bucket of water on me and told me to put some clothes on.“  
Christoph looked around this wretched neighborhood and sighed only when he remembered this somewhat embarrassing encounter.   
There wasn't that much left of his actual clothes and he only had to travel halfway through the city just wearing a scarf to put something on again.

He had just been lost in thought for a short moment and was not concentrating properly before he received a slight blow from the side, directed by the walking stick of another man running beside them.  
He was tall and very slender, maybe even a bit too thin for a normal build and he hid his dull blue eyes behind glasses whose lenses were dirty.  
"Till would never have let you go out again if you had killed that man. Now concentrate and think about it.", this man admonished him and Christoph had to admit that he was right.

"I think we're past that."  
Paul turned his head slightly in the direction of the two men who were catching up and nodded towards a small side street.  
It stank as if someone had recently slaughtered an animal, and the pungent smell of blood rose to the noses of both Paul and Christoph.  
"That's definitely his blood," mumbled Christoph softly and stroked his face lightly with his hand.  
It was hard to concentrate.   
He still had the taste of his victim in his mouth and the animal in him longed for it but he knew himself that this was pathologically wrong.  
Nevertheless he got this sting in his head.  
A slight inhuman growl came out of his throat and he felt his teeth biting his own lips bloody.

Suddenly he gasped loudly as Paul pushed him against the wall of the house with such force that he lost his breath for a short moment.  
Christoph only looked into two grey eyes that sparkled tense and he felt Paul's fingers pressing his cheeks together.  
"Schneider, as far as I know, your public life is the most important thing in your head, isn't it?", the smaller man began with a hint of a threat in his voice.  
"And in order for you to continue to attend your clubs, you should avoid letting anyone from home see what your behavior is like today. So get a grip or you'll be thrown in the cage next to the new guy."  
Despite the fact that Paul tried to keep his voice as low as possible to avoid attracting attention, Christoph took the threat very seriously and swallowed lightly.   
It was really the greatest punishment to lose the exit and as far as he knew he would not go anywhere for the next three weeks alone.

After Paul got a nod from Christoph he finally let go and followed the doctor they had with them into the alley.  
Flake sat squatting in front of a half-dry pool of blood and pressed a finger into the already dark brown blood.

"Are you sure you didn't eat him up?"  
Paul raised his voice as he looked around the crime scene and recognized nothing but the cold concrete covered with an abundant layer of blood. A normal person would have died long ago with this amount of lost blood, but this presumed corpse was not present.  
"Do you think I'm gonna stick a knife in my own neck? He almost killed me!", Christoph replied dismayed at Paul's suspicions and preferred to lean against the wall of the house a few meters further away to avoid getting a stronger smell in his nose.

"That was a rhetorical question, idiot."  
Paul leaned down to the doctor and looked at him questioningly.  
"Do you think the CID has secured all this yet?"   
There was a first hint of uncertainty in his voice, and he looked tot he doctor, then back to Scheider.  
"Just because I studied doesn't mean you two gentlemen can't open your eyes, too."   
Flake didn't return Paul's gaze and tried to take a small blood sample from what was left. Because of the unevenness in the concrete, this was a feasible task.

"As slowly as the Berlin Criminal Investigation Department is investigating, its task forces are still poking around in the grass. Nobody noticed this and our suspect neither fled nor died so that Christoph could have his midnight snack after all. Now, if you don't want to bother me, you can look over the threshold, Mr. Landers."  
While giving this lecture, Flake raised his head and looked into the grey-blue eyes of his smaller companion before looking past them and looking towards the front door.

Paul rose from his kneeling position and only now noticed the faint but visible traces of blood leading to the door.  
The door was open, only a crack and a bunch of keys were still in the lock. Obviously the weak door had been broken open so brutally that the whole lock lay on the floor in front of it.  
Slowly Paul pushed against it with his hand and found an empty staircase with wooden steps leading up to a single door. From the open apartment door, light shone into the stairwell from a window.  
"Schneider, come with me," cried the little man out of the door before slowly climbing the stairs.

Paul almost slipped when he noticed that there was vomiting on the last two steps and he turned his nose up for a moment. Because of the generally bad air and all the other smells in this staircase he hadn't noticed this either.  
Christoph was right behind him and he had to smile for a moment.  
"You'll pay for my shoes," Paul hissed quietly behind him as he entered the apartment and took a quick look around.   
When Christoph wanted to say something more, Paul forbade him to speak by putting his finger on his own mouth and showing him that it should go to the right and he to the left.  
Christoph of course followed the instructions with a quiet grumble. Although there was no hierarchy in his 'family' he had to subordinate to the older ones - at least as long as he was unable to control himself.   
And he had successfully proved this last night.

His eyes glided through this apartment and he noticed objects that didn't belong on the floor. An uneasy feeling spread in his stomach as he got a stronger and stronger smell in his nose.  
Suddenly he cringed as he felt a hand on his shoulder, swung out and was about to strike when his hand was stopped by an arm, and the same grey eyes that were so familiar to him looked at him again.  
He looked at his hand and noticed the claws on his fingers slowly forming back to normal fingernails.

"You still have a lot to learn, Christoph," Paul just said and let go of his arm before he walked past them and into the apartment.  
It was the bedroom they had arrived in and Paul stopped when he saw a man leaning against the bed with his head down.

It looked as if he was dead but this was not confirmed by the irregular twitching of his muscles and the light breathing. In general he looked very thin and neglected. His clothes were tattered and stained with dirt and blood.  
Slowly he lifted his head as Christoph took a step closer to him and two green eyes were visible which looked dull to the two men.

"What have you done to me?" murmured this quietly in a scratchy voice.   
It was unusual that he recognized his attacker of yesterday evening also in the human form, but the eyes of a werewolf were unmistakable.

"Watch out Schneider, you don't know how far the trial has progressed.", Paul spoke calmly as he looked just behind him, but Flake still hadn't arrived at the apartment.   
Sighing, he looked back at Christoph who slowly leaned down to the unknown man.

"His wounds are already completely healed.", Christoph noticed and looked back at Paul.  
Not a single scratch was visible on the young man's exposed collarbone, nor on his arm or belly.  
"Remarkable. It took you three days.", it came only from Paul's side as he leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed.  
Christoph just pulled a face and rolled his eyes when suddenly he was grabbed by two arms on his shoulders and thrown across the room.

His eyes couldn't open properly when he suddenly felt the weight of his victims from yesterday staring at him hatefully.  
The teeth in his mouth were no longer human and gritted together.  
He was never as strong as this man above him in his human form and he tried with all his strength to keep the teeth of his opponent away from his neck.  
"Paul!", cried Christoph to hopefully get help from his partner.

Paul in the meantime also got a little panic. He did not know how to deal with the situation. Pulling the attacker off Christoph would only make him more angry and provoke the transformation more and more.  
Paul sprinted to a chair in the kitchen, kicked it and grabbed the leg of the chair before running towards them with a kind of fighting scream.  
But just at that moment a stun dart hit the young man's shoulder and within seconds he was unconscious and fell on Christoph who let out a relieved breath.

"You're the worst team I've ever seen.", Flake said in a relaxed tone of voice as Paul dropped the leg of the chair and helped Christoph to get the man off him.  
"What did you put in his tranquilizer darts this time, Doktore?"  
Paul looked down at the man, who looked less dangerous now, but human again.

"Morphine, in an overdose of course."  
Flake plucked the empty tranquilizer dart from the man's body and simply placed it in his coat pocket before bending down to meet him.  
With a flashlight he looked into the man's eyes and raised his eyebrows. In addition to the general green colour of the eyes, a slight red circle formed around the pupil.

"The healing abilities are truly remarkable for a werewolf that is not yet fully developed."  
Flake pressed lightly on your collarbone and heard a slight crack.  
"But not yet fully developed. But with the first transformation, his inner wounds should fully heal."  
The doctor's blue eyes wandered to the man's left arm and noticed the three fingers which appeared much lighter in complexion than the rest.  
Slowly he raised his hand and examined it before he looked at Christoph who had picked himself up in the meantime.  
"Even as a werewolf, cannibalism is an immoral crime, Christoph."  
With these words, Flake rose and looked down at the unconscious man.  
"We're taking him home. Pick him up."  
With that order, the man locked the cane at the end to hide that it was actually a stun gun and left the apartment.

Paul bent down to pick up the long man's legs.  
"And also the transformation took you longer."  
Christoph rolled his eyes at this remark and picked him up under his arms before they carried him out of the devastated apartment.


End file.
